III
Christine blinked blearily as the gentle tinkle of music reached her ears. She looked around and for a moment panic rose in her chest at the unfamiliar surroundings. Then the memories from the night before came back to her in a daze. She pushed back the curtains around the bed and looked up at a little music box. A barrel organ with a monkey on it playing a familiar tune, and then the gentle sound of the organ came to her.
She climbed out of the strange bed and stretched, taking a deep breath as she walked towards the exit of the room. She did not know what to expect when she went around the corner. She moved carefully and looked around the strange home, taking in everything that she hadn't noticed the night before.
It was cluttered, papers were scattered over every surface and strange props from past productions and candelabras with flickering candles and dripping wax. She could see him sitting at the organ playing quietly, she figured it was so he wouldn't wake her. She made a small noise in the back of her throat to get his attention. He turned his head and looked at her briefly before going back to whatever he was working on. Purposefully ignoring her as he scribbled something on a music score.
She approached carefully, coming up on his unmasked side. She could see him glance at her and then return to what he was doing. She looked at the score, it was only the beginnings of a song and the notes seemed erratic to her.
Christine decided not to bother him and waited as he fiddled around with the beginnings of a melody. She studied him as he played, watching his every movement as he wrote the notes on the score. So this was her angel, and the infamous Opera Ghost. He was either really, just a man in a mask who had created an extraordinary world of illusions to bemuse everyone…just a man in a mask. A white mask.
The mask. It was intriguing, why did he wear it, was it to frighten people, to create and air of mystery? She could feel her curiosity get the better of her and touched his naked cheek.
She felt him tense beneath her hand and then relax into the touch, revelling in it. She roamed her hand over his face until she could feel the edges of the mask. She waited for a brief second, her better judgement keeping her there for a mere second before she grasp the edge of the cool leather and pulled it off his face. She caught a brief glimpse of what was hidden beneath eh leather shell before his hand flew to his face and the other knocked her forcefully to the ground in an uncontrollable fit of rage.
Antoinette woke up early and got ready for the day. That evening was the performance of Il Muto and she wanted the dancers to get in one last, good rehearsal before they performed on stage.
She got dressed and did her hair up before leaving to wake the girls. They would have breakfast, try their costumes on one final time, find their shoes, get their makeup on…the list went on.
She was heading for the dormitory when she ran into her daughter walking back from the direction of Carlotta's dressing room. She sighed and shook her head, "Meg?"
"Oh, good morning, Maman," she said, hurrying over, chewing her bottom lip nervously.
"What are you doing up already?" Antoinette asked her guilty looking daughter.
"I was just…Christine never came in last night and she wasn't in her bed this morning. I just wanted to look for her," Meg explained, "I looked in the chapel and the dressing room. But she wasn't there. I'm worried about her."
Antoinette gave her daughter a sympathetic look, "I'm sure that she is fine, Meg. Now, could you go and get everyone up? Then get some breakfast if you have not had any. It will be a busy day."
Meg nodded and hurried off the dormitory. Antoinette rubbed her temples and sighed. She had no idea if Christine was alright. She did not know what Erik would do. She could only hope that he would be the gentleman she knew he could be.
"Of course he will be," she murmured, heading for the dressing room, "he will be…"
Christine handed the mask back to him with a trembling hand. She had never seen anyone so angry before, but it had evaporated so suddenly, leaving a profound sadness.
He replaced the mask and stood up, walking away so his back was turned to her. She could tell he was trying to compose himself as he took a deep breath, "Come, we must return - those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."
"Oh…right," Christine murmured, still unsure of what to do.
Erik nodded, "I, have a few things to do before we can leave."
Christine nodded her head as he walked over to a desk and started to scribble something on a small card. She watched as he sealed the note in an envelope with a red wax skull. He then proceeded to walk away, into the bedroom. He remained there for several minutes and she finally stood up and brushed herself off, suddenly horribly aware of what she was wearing. Or more so, what she was not wearing.
He emerged again, fully dressed in a black suit. She hugged her arms over her chest and tried not to make eye contact. He moved past her and picked his cloak off of the floor, putting it one in one swift movement.
"Follow me," he said, motioning for her to get in the boat.
"Of course," she whispered, climbing in carefully and drawing her knees up to her chest.
Erik sighed as he pushed the boat to the dock and allowed Christine to climb out. She pulled back when he passed her, not even allowing the fabric of the cloak to brush against her. He cursed himself for this. It had all gone too well, he should have known better. Nothing good ever lasted long.
The walk back to the surface was long, but he figured they had time. It would still be very early in the morning. Most of the members of the theatre would not even be awake. He glanced back and caught her just as she cast her eyes towards the ground again. Not a bad idea, he decided, the old tunnels had uneven floors.
"Here," he said, after an exceedingly long silence, "go through there."
He pressed the release and the lock on the mirror clicked open. He grasped the side of it and pulled it back before stepping aside to allow her through. Christine stole a final glance before hurrying through the opening and into the dark dressing room. Erik sighed and slid the mirror back into place. Listening for the click of the lock before turning and making his way back through the maze of tunnels.
Christine turned just as the mirror closed. She bit her bottom lip and sighed heavily. She couldn't even remember why he had been so angry. She had seen his face, was that it? His face…what had it looked like. There had been something wrong with it, she knew that. But what? She tried hard to remember what she had seen, but he had reacted so quickly, so angrily. It must have been horrible, no, it was horrible.
She jumped as the door to the dressing room opened and gave a cry of relief when she saw Antoinette standing in the doorway, "Madame…"
Antoinette rushed forward as Christine almost fainted into her arms. She looked down at the child and gave a sad sigh. She was still dressed in her dressing gown and her feet were bare. She felt cold and was obviously exhausted.
"Come my dear," she murmured, "you need rest."
Christine nodded weakly and allowed Antoinette to guide her back to her apartment. Meg met them half way and gasped when she saw her friend.
"Oh, Christine! I was so worried, are you alright?" she asked, "oh, you don't look well."
"She just needs some rest," Antoinette assured her, "why don't you go and get something from the kitchen for her."
Meg nodded and hurried off. Antoinette sighed and entered her apartment, letting Christine take her bed. The girl lay down and sighed, looking around the room, "Madame Giry?"
"Oui?" Antoinette asked.
"I…he asked…he gave me this," she muttered, handing her an envelope.
"Thank you," Antoinette said, "taking it from her. He did not hurt you, I trust?"
"No…" Christine replied distantly, "he didn't hurt me."
Antoinette tapped the envelope against her palm and looked her over. There were no bruises, but she still seemed distant, "He did nothing to you? Nothing at all?"
"No," Christine replied with a bit more confidence, "he…didn't hurt me."
Antoinette nodded and waited for her daughter to return. She had a glass of water and a piece of buttered bread with her. Antoinette placed them on the bedside table and told Christine to get some rest.
"Maman, I could hear the managers. It seems that they're looking for Christine."
"I see. Well we should go tell them that she is fine, non?"
Antoinette found the managers standing together with Raoul, Carlotta and Piangi. Firmin and Andre were talking, shaking their head, "All we've heard since we came in Miss Daae's name!"
"Miss Daae has returned," Antoinette informed them.
"I hope no worse for wear," Firmin said, glancing at Raoul.
"Where precisely is she now?" Andre asked eagerly.
"I thought it best she was alone," Antoinette said.
"She needed rest," Meg piped in.
"May I see her?" Raoul asked.
"No, she will see no one," Antoinette said, taking the decision upon herself. It would be best that way. For both Christine and the young man. Whatever happened would not have put Erik in a good mood.
"Will she sing? Will she sing?" Carlotta and Piangi demanded.
Antoinette did not know the answer and instead pulled out a note, "Here, I have a note
"Let me see it!" they all exclaimed.
Antoinette handed it to Firmin who snatched it away, "Please!"
He read the note aloud and everyone listened intently. Afterwards Carlotta erupted into another one of her tantrums. The managers followed her through the theatre and Antoinette followed as well, listening to their attempts to calm her down and appease the dive. In the end it was decided that the roles would stay exactly as they had been scripted. Christine was going to play the role of the pageboy and Carlotta would be playing the lead.
Antoinette sighed heavily and went to help Christine get into costume. The girl still seemed distant and kept looking over her shoulder as she got into costume and put her makeup on.
"It will be alright," Antoinette assured, "you know what to do."
"Its not that," Christine murmured as the orchestra began to warm up.
"You will be fine," Antoinette repeated, patting Christine's hand, "nothing will go wrong…" she watched as Christine made her way onto the stage and sighed. A shadow moved behind her and she tried to believe that it wasn't Erik, "I hope."
A/N: Come on, review...pretty please? Ah well, hope those of you who are reading are enjoying the story so far. I will really try to update more, but this week I have a big old math test and a physics lab, so don't expect miracles...Review!